Reflections
by BR125
Summary: An inner look into what Kate could have possibly been thinking about during her post shooting stay at her family's cabin.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Just a heads up, I chose to not write a Kate that was focusing solely on her pain, as that is not the way I see her character. I just can't imagine her walking around writhing in pain constantly.**_ _**I was thinking more about the woman/cop who asked Dr. Burke for a pill to fix her PTSD so she could hurry the fuck up and get back to work. I did however not ignore the subject completely, but it is not the focus of this story. I was more interested in what her thoughts might have possibly been during her post shooting stay at the cabin. I do not own Castle, the characters etc., add in all the other usual disclaimers here. Rating this T for language - because I just can't seem to stop myself from swearing.**_

_****__**Thank you to **__**JoanaCTeixeira for the great cover art!**_

_***Please note that Kate's writings and flashbacks are both in italics.**_

_She can't move, the debilitating pain keeping her rooted to the spot; an agonizing scream trapped in her throat. Her chest is burning and a coppery odor hangs heavily in the air, assaulting her senses, as the warm liquid makes its sickening slow seep down her torso. The afternoon sun baths its warm tendrils upon her, but she feels no warmth, just the cold specter of death casting its unsympathetic shadow; and in that moment, she knows, she's going to die. Desperate to hang on, push back against the inevitable, she focuses on the present, drags her gaze to meet his, and wills herself to live. His blue eyes bore into hers, red rimmed, tears traversing a path down his cheeks, panic, helplessness and anguish swimming in their watery depths. Her breath is labored, each inhale painful, a sharp stab, agonizing. Her heartbeat is thundering in her ears, but somehow his words break through, his desperate plea, a thin thread of hope, wrenching her back from the precipice of death._

_"Oh, Kate. Shh. Kate, please. Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay? Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate."_

_No. Not now, not like this. So much left unsaid, so many dreams left unfulfilled, her love for him never having found its voice. She exhales a barely there breath, the ghost of air passes her lips softly, carrying words he can't hear, the ones she has waited too long to say. How foolish she was, time is a luxury, a gift, one she only now realizes how truly precious. She hopes in these final moments he will feel her love, somehow hear her unsaid words; it's her final wish, as she closes her eyes and surrenders to the darkness._

* * *

"Castle." His name a mere whisper from her lips, shattering the silence; her eyes slowly open, the warm hand on her shoulder drawing her attention. Twisting carefully in the seat, her eyes flick up to meet his and the concern and pity that greets her in his gaze forces her to look away. His sympathy for her is just a reminder as to why she left the city, a reminder of how broken she is. Catching the emotions that flash in her eyes, he looks at her questioningly, but taking her silence as a sign, he simply gives her an understanding smile.

"Katie, we are here."

The warm glow of light from the door opening cuts through the darkness and her eyes track his retreating form around the back of vehicle. Releasing a defeated sigh she relaxes back into the soft leather seat, tips her head back against the headrest, and fixes her eyes upon the ceiling. The warm rush of air hits her as her father's hand grasps her smaller one tenderly. She rolls her head to the right, and a full smile appears at her lips, as the warmth of familiarity seeps into her heart; it's been so long since she's been her, but it's exactly how she remembers it.

The log style cabin stands nestled back into the woods, two stories with a wraparound deck and large bay windows make up one whole side, overlooking the lake. The rest of the facade is a dark amber wood, highlighted by the copper gutters, a natural green patina coating the surfaces. A stone walkway leading to the front door branches left and opens up onto a patio, a large matching conical copper fire pit the center piece of the space.

Her mother loved it here; the outdoor space was her idea, insisting that what was the point of having such a beautiful view, if not to enjoy it. So many happy memories, family vacations, summers spent fishing with her father, the leisurely walks through the forest trails with her mother, and in a fleeting thought she wonders if this was the right place to go. She fears that her presence here will somehow replace those memories with the pain and misery she feels, passing them on as if through osmosis; and entwining them here forever.

Her eyes glance left to the lake, its calm black surface like glass, reflecting the moonlight's shimmering glow. Tall pines surround it, their branches thick, trunks twisted and knotted. Deep creases mar the barks surface, battle wounds of a life spent outside; each one tells a story, a unique experience. The tips of her fingers absently trace the long scar on her side, dipping slightly; this is her battle wound, her story. Loss, vengeance, regret, betrayal, and just like the pines, her experiences will also be forever etched into her body.

"Come on Katie, let's get you inside."

With a non-committal hum she lists heavily into the door, using it as a makeshift brace, and rises slowly. Each step labored the pull and tug of her skin excruciating. She hates this broken feeble woman she's become; a part of her lives in constant fear that the woman she once was, will never return; that her emotional scars, like the physical ones, will be with her forever. The thin tenuous threads of her psyche having snapped as the bullet tore through her. Her blind unyielding desire for justice, thinking that she was in control, invincible even, as she thwarted every attack, was a lie, a magic trick, just an illusion created in her mind. She was wrong, everything has changed and each painful twinge is a stark reminder that they are the ones in control.

The trip from the car to the cabin is the longest she has attempted in weeks, and her body is in strict protest at the additional excursion. Collapsing heavily onto the couch, she rests her head on the cushion behind her, as she feels the last of her strength drain away. Breathing deeply, her eyes begin to drift close; her father's soft footfalls on the hardwood floors are the last sounds she hears before she gives into the overwhelming exhaustion.

"Katie, wake up." A soft squeeze at her shoulder rouses her. "I made you something to eat. And it's time for your pills."

Sighing, she sits up as straight as her injuries will allow and runs her fingers through her hair. He really is trying, and although she appreciates the effort, the thought of food has her stomach churning violently. "Dad I know you're worried." Reaching out to place a comforting hand on his knee, her nose wrinkles in disgust at the sandwich laid out in front of her. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry. I think I am just going to go to bed."

He father shoots her a disapproving look but says nothing as he places the pills and glass of water on the table in front of her. He leans in to press a kiss to her head and without a single word uttered, goes upstairs to bed. He's worried about her, she knows. The gamut of emotions she witnessed during her hospital stay was clear evidence of his concern, not that she ever doubted it. But their relationship, although repaired now, she's sure is holding him back, his guilt over his past addiction keeping him from pushing her too hard, in fear she will shut him out completely.

A sudden shudder passes through her at the thought of what would have happened to him if she had not survived. Would he have started drinking again? The image of him sitting alone and drinking himself into an alcohol induced coma night after night until one day he just didn't wake up fills her mind. It's been just the two of them for so long, but she takes comfort in the thought that it's no longer that way. Surely the boys, Lanie and Castle would have taken care of him, stopped him from disappearing into the bottom of a scotch bottle. Not that her recent actions warrant their loyalty. And Castle, his declaration of love; now there is a cluster fuck she has no intention of dealing with right now. His timing could have been better, but when have they ever done anything in the correct order. The universe is a bitch, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping her at the thought that maybe it exists just to screw her. Releasing a frustrated huff, she resolves that this is just too much to handle at the moment. Snatching her pills off the table, she downs them and gingerly hauls herself up and off the couch; sleep is definitely needed.

* * *

Stepping out of the bathroom, she makes her way to the bed, pulls back the comforter and eases in; the cool sheets immediately raising goose bumps on her warm flesh. The pain has subsided to an acceptable level due to the medication but a peaceful sleep still eludes her; her mind is a jumbled mess. The crushing weight of everything that has happened is too much to bear. Shifting her hips slightly she sinks further into the bed, concentrates on her breathing, silently begging for sleep to claim her, a respite from the pain, and the swirling thoughts in her head, if only for a few hours.

She's exhausted and frustrated after an hour of accomplishing nothing more than staring at the same spot in the ceiling. With a huff of annoyance, she throws back the comforter and carefully slides out of bed. Apparently the universe is displeased with her less than flattering description earlier, and has decided her punishment will be to add sleep deprivation to the list of things she's getting screwed over on.

Slipping her arms through her Kimono and tying it loosely at the waist, she takes a moment to glance around the room. A soft smile appears on her lips as her mind runs through all the memories contained within this space. So many changes over the years, but the one thing that has always remained through every phase of her life, every paint change or remodel is her window seat. It has always been her favorite part of her room here; she has logged more hours than she's willing to admit curled up with a good book in that very spot. And the view from the seat, well in one word it is, breathtaking. The lush green forest goes on for miles. How the gently sloping hills rise and fall, it's a magnificence that only nature could construct. In the winter, the snow caps the tree tops, and she would see the small twinkling lights of the houses scattered throughout the landscape; tiny wisps of smoke billowing up through the dense forest from their chimneys. She finds herself at a loss to accurately describe the astounding beauty. She has never been one for words, preferring action to express her emotions, but Castle; he would have the perfect words.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes in amusement; he could probably give her a dissertation on it. How many times has he made her feel better, loved and cared for with just his words? She's hit with a sudden realization, maybe that's what she needs, words. So many disjointed thoughts swimming in her head she feels like she's drowning. Like a murder board, when all the evidence is laid out, dated, and catalogued, she always sees things more clearly; this is exactly what she needs.

Grabbing a pad and pen from the nightstand, she arranges the pillows, and drops softly onto the window seat cushion. Rolling her shoulders she relaxes back and tucks her feet up under her. Brow furrowed in concentration, she takes a deep calming breath and raises the pen to the page;

_I am not even sure where to start..._

TBC

_**Additional AN:**__** As always, thank you for Tshlw and Flashpoint (Kjf3333) for your super ninja beta skills and encouragement. And shout out to JoanaCTeixeira for taking the time to read my chapters in advance and offer your opinions; thank you. **__**If you would like to follow me on Twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate scenes from the show, Twitter sized. You can follow that at Castleficlets.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: This chapter jumps ahead four weeks starting right after the italicized portion. I tried to use clues from the show to figure out the timeline. I am going to assume Kate spent**_ _**May in the hospital and then headed to the cabin. On the show she was gone three months, but she was back at the 12th one week early from her medical leave. I am assuming she was in NY for a bit to do some physical therapy and see Dr. Burke to get the all clear before going back to work. In this story,**_ _**Jim will spend the month of June at the cabin and leave after the 4th of July. Kate will spend July alone at the cabin and will head back to NY the first week in August to give her three weeks in the city before she returns to the 12**__**th **__**late August.**_

_Previously..._

_Grabbing a pad and pen from the nightstand, she arranges the pillows, and drops softly onto the window seat cushion. Rolling her shoulders she relaxes back and tucks her feet up under her. Brow furrowed in concentration, she takes a deep calming breath and raises the pen to the page;_

_ I am not even sure where to start..._

* * *

_everything is such a mess. The pain is excruciating, every pull and tug sends sharp jolts throughout my whole body. Everything feels tight, like there is a vice inside me that gets tighter and tighter over the day, I find myself listing in that direction, I can't remember the last time I actually stood up straight. The nightmares come almost every night and it's like I relive it all over again, only this time I don't survive, maybe it would have been better. The doctors tell me my heart stopped….and sometimes I can't help but wish it never started again. It would have all been done, over...finished; and I think that would have been so much easier. They say death only hurts those left behind...and I couldn't agree more. _

_The scars...are…horrible, a reminder that I survived but I only see the pain and misery I feel, etched into every dip and curve of the marred flesh. I don't know how I will ever feel comfortable wearing anything that doesn't cover them; fitting that they are just like the rest of my life, jagged and ugly. Montgomery, my dad, my mother's case, Castle...all these thoughts in my head on a constant loop, and I don't know how to make them stop. I need a minute to just breathe; it's suffocating; the weight of them is crushing. _

_Montgomery, my mentor, friend...how could I have not seen the obvious? How did I not know? I was so blind. I trusted him and he betrayed me. And now I am not sure what actually hurts worse, if the relentless ache in my chest is from the shot or the betrayal. __I still remember that night he found me on the floor in the file room pouring over my mother's case. I was so sure he was going to kick me out and report me, but he surprised me, told me I'd make a hell of a detective one day. He didn't see the damaged cop, spiraling, obsessed with her mother's murder, desperate to get the justice she deserved, he saw the potential, and for that I will be eternally grateful. His final act of redemption, sacrificing his life for mine...the guilt is...overwhelming. __But despite everything...I miss him; and I forgive him._

_My father is trying so hard, but I see the way he looks at me when he thinks I am not watching and I can't stand the pity and fear I see there, like he expects me to just disappear, like he's living with a ghost. Afraid that when he closes his eyes he will open them and find that I am gone; that I never actually survived. But I think the pity I see bothers me the most, it makes me feel weak, pathetic and broken. _

_Castle…his desperate declaration of love and the devastation I saw in his eyes when I told him I didn't remember; it broke my heart. I could tell he wanted to say it again, or maybe I just imagined that he did, but I didn't want to hear it, so I lied to him and told him I would call, I was such a coward; but I am not ready, and he deserves more than I can give him. I am too damaged, too broken. I am not even sure why he loves me. I have done nothing but push him away, quickly replacing every brick he knocked out of my wall. I am so afraid that if I take down my walls,_ _let him in, and we don't work, I know I would not be able to handle the loss; I can't imagine my life without him in it. For the first time in my life I am terrified...what if I am never me again? What if they try to kill me again? Or someone I care for? I am scared to give up my mother's case, it's so much a part of me now, and who am I without it? It's just…all too much._

Exhaling a heavy breath her eyes slip closed as her head falls softly against the window; her thumb capturing the single tear that has broken through her defenses. It feels insurmountable seeing it all written down, her thoughts are like the threads of a spider web; so intricately woven together, each thought connected, she's not able to remove a single strand without effecting the others. This is why she left the city; this is why she ran away.

* * *

The smell of coffee wafting through the house invades her senses, like a sirens call lulling her gently awake; an anticipatory smile pulling at her lips. Stretching languidly a sharp stab halts her movements, forcing her to curl back into herself; startling her back to reality. Oh yeah, gunshot, cabin, that's right, and absolutely no coffee..ugh! The last four weeks have dragged by agonizingly slow and although she's beginning to feel marginally better physically, the caffeine withdrawals seem to be heading in the opposite direction; they are getting worse. Her father has no idea how lucky he is that she is sans gun at the moment; brewing coffee while she can't have any is definitely grounds for justifiable homicide.

She can still feel where her father's fingers dug into her arm in an attempt to hold her back from killing the oh so smug surgical resident that shared that juicy little nugget with her. "No stimulants of any kind Detective Beckett, blah blah blah." Her voice drips with sarcasm as she does her best impression of him. With a self-satisfied smirk, she feels the displeasure of her current enforced caffeine ban lessen slightly as she recalls the look of terror that flashed in his eyes when he was met with the Beckett death glare. "God, he was such an ass." Falling back into bed, she throws a forearm over her eyes as a disgruntled groan escapes her throat. "Guess I will be washing my pills down with orange juice..again..fantastic." Taking only a moment to wallow in her self-pity, she pushes herself to her feet, her motions still slightly awkward due to her injuries and grabs a pair of yoga pants and button up jersey from her dresser; still too sore too attempt any pull over shirts at this point. Dressing carefully she grabs her hoodie off the door hook as she makes her way to the kitchen.

The footfalls on the stair case alert Jim to Kate's impending arrival, launching himself out of his seat to dispose of the evidence he chances a glance in her direction, he knows that look; he's busted. He's been so careful, rising well before Kate to gulp down a quick cup before she joins him for breakfast. "Good morning." He follows the line of her vision and throws her an apologetic smile. "Sorry Katie, I only made one cup, thought I could get it down before you were up."

Dropping down onto a seat at the kitchen island; her hand darts out to snag a piece of bacon off his plate and chews it victoriously. "That's okay Dad. I get it." Giving him her best glare as a smirk pulls at the corner of her lips. "But you are lucky my gun is in the city. How about you make it up to me by cooking me breakfast?"

Chuckling, he proceeds to bury his head in the fridge to dig out the ingredients; his question thrown over his shoulder. "Eggs and bacon fine?"

"Yeah that would be great Dad and thank you...for everything."

Turning to place the food on the counter, he shifts his eyes to meet hers, to search for any signs of uncertainty in her answer. "Are you still okay with me leaving in a few days? I have set up the groceries to be delivered once a week, I talked to your doctor and called the online pharmacy so your medications will arrive in the mail, if you need anything the Rugers are here for the summer, they ..."

"Dad!" Cutting off his words with a raise of her hand. "Really, I will be fine." She exhales a sigh and closes her eyes briefly, giving herself a moment. Her eyes softening when she again meets his gaze. "I promise if I need help I will call them." She takes a sip of the juice and relaxes back, her hand sliding the short distance between them to give his a comforting squeeze. "I know you are worried about leaving me, but don't be. You need to get back to work, it's been four weeks, and you have done more than enough."

Jim just smiles and gives her a quick nod in response. It hurts that she expects so little of him, and he knows that's his fault. His disappearance into his own world of self-loathing and despair after his wife died left Kate in the position of parent, the responsibility of taking care of him when he should have been taking care of her shifted their equilibrium and apparently it has not returned. He needs to talk to her, but instead he swallows the words, like he does so often, like he did the night he went to see Rick instead of her, and returns to the task at hand; his own feelings of guilt weigh heavily on him as well.

Breakfast passes in relative silence, other than the occasional hums and nods from Kate. Standing to gather the dirty dishes, her father's hand grasps her wrist halting her movement. "I will take care of cleaning up." Tipping his head towards the front door. "Why don't you go sit outside, it's a beautiful day, go enjoy it. I will join you as soon as I finish up in here."

Kate simply hums her agreement as she stands and heads towards the front door. Choosing a lounge chair facing the lake she reclines back and basks in the warm July sun. The month she spent in the hospital left her itching to spend time outdoors. Even after all these weeks her lungs feel as though the stale hospital air has permeated into them, the antiseptic taste rolling off her tongue with every exhale. Tipping her head and sinking deeper into the soft cushion she closes her eyes and lets the peaceful sounds of the nature lull her into relaxation.

Jim feels a smile pull at his lips as the soft sound of snoring coming from the front hits his ears. Crossing the foyer and peering out the screen door he takes a moment to silently watch her. The slow steady rise and fall of her chest is a welcome sight, it means she's alive. He almost lost her, and the thought makes his knees weak and his heart beat erratically in his chest. Losing Johanna almost killed him, but he had Katie there to help him and although he was not very good at showing it, she gave him something to live for. If she had died that day in the cemetery, he knows he would not have had to drink himself to death, he would have died of pure heartbreak alone; his heart left to fragile after the loss of his wife to withstand yet another devastating blow. He needs to talk to her, stop her from continuing down this path of self-destruction, she needs to know what he told Rick that day, she needs to know that her life is worth more than her mother's death.

Quietly setting a chair beside her his hand gives her shoulder a light squeeze.

"Katie, wake up."

TBC

_**Additional AN: As always, thank you for Tshlw for all the help, it is greatly appreciated, seriously! And Flashpoint (Kjf3333) for your super ninja beta skills, thank you. If you have not read her story 226, please do, it's fantastic. Need to give a shout out to JoanaCTeixeira for taking the time to read my chapters in advance and offer your opinions; fist bump. If you would like to follow me on Twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate scenes from the show, Twitter sized. You can follow that at Castleficlets. **_


	3. Chapter 3

_Previously..._

_Jim feels a smile pull at his lips as the soft sound of snoring coming from the front hits his ears. Crossing the foyer and peering out the screen door he takes a moment to silently watch her. The slow steady rise and fall of her chest is a welcome sight, it means she's alive. He almost lost her, and the thought makes his knees weak and his heart beat erratically in his chest. Losing Johanna almost killed him, but he had Katie there to help him and although he was not very good at showing it, she gave him something to live for. If she had died that day in the cemetery, he knows he would not have had to drink himself to death, he would have died of pure heartbreak alone; his heart left to fragile after the loss of his wife to withstand yet another devastating blow. He needs to talk to her, stop her from continuing down this path of self-destruction, she needs to know what he told Rick that day, she needs to know that her life is worth more than her mother's death. _

_ Quietly setting a chair beside her his hand gives her shoulder a light squeeze._

_ "Katie, wake up." _

* * *

"Dad?" Groaning, her eyes slowly flutter open, as she lifts the back of her hand to her lips and quickly swipes away the embarrassing bead of drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. "Sorry, I must have passed out." Her voice is husky, heavily laden with sleep as the heels of her palms dig unforgivingly into her eyes, wiping away the last traces of sleep. Exhaling a discontented breath, the back of her hand comes up to stifle a yawn; the frustration at her current situation causing a grimace to appear on her lips. "I am just so tired all the time." Drawing her knees up, she wraps her arms around her calves and pulls them tightly against her chest. Tilting forward she drops her forehead onto her knees. "I hate this." The words barely discernible as she mumbles them into the soft cotton of her sweats.

Inhaling a deep breath, a moment to pause, the defeated tone clearly evident in her voice is something he's not used to hearing. Even as a child she was so strong, stubborn, seeing her like this makes his heart ache. "I'm sorry Katie. I wish I could take your pain away." His hand comes out to rest between her shoulder blades, his thumb sweeping up and down in a soothing motion between them.

"I know dad..and it will get easier, I am just being impatient." Her words are infused with a nonchalance she doesn't feel as she turns to rest her cheek on her knees, and drags her gaze to meet his. "I'm sorry." A pang of regret heavily intertwined into her words. "I was getting so close, finally a chance for justice, we have waited so long. I promise you when I get back..."

"No." Cutting her off with a raise of his hand; the anger in his voice hits her with enough force she's cut off mid-sentence. Her apparent disregard for her own well-being, hell...the fact that it doesn't seem as though she cares whether she lives or dies, the seemingly little value she places on her existence in exchange for justice sends a hot spike of anger through him. Their gazes lock and the air between them fills with tension. "Katie you need to stop. I thought I lost you, and I was..I was terrified; you can't do this anymore..you..you just need to stop." Jim's shoulders drop, his anger having dissipated with his outburst. "Your mother wouldn't want this for you...and neither do I." Forcing down the lump in his throat, his eyes focus on the lake, the soft breeze creating gentle waves that roll across its surface. A fishing boat sits off to the left, its hull swaying slightly side to side in time with the small swells. His eyes focus upon the scene, the serenity, the peaceful rocking motion hypnotic. An American flag perched on the bow lifts and furls with the gentle puffs of air; his eyes drift closed, breathing deeply as his thoughts replay that horrific day.

_The drums were beating in the background, as the coffin came into view, an American flag draped across it; a symbol of their service to their country, their tireless pursuit of justice. His eyes fell upon Kate as she made her way to the podium, her eyes were glossy with unshed tears, but as she prepared to speak she steeled her emotions and recounted the words that obviously affected her deeply. Words he was sure were spoken to her in a time of need, by a man that he knows meant so much to her. He ached for her loss, but seeing her strength, her perseverance in the face of such a personal tragedy filled his heart with warmth, he was so proud of her._

Jim runs his hand down his face, taking a moment, his eyes softening as he reaches a hand out to grasp hers. "When I saw you lying on the ground, I remember thinking, please no, god, let her be okay. I could see everyone rushing around, but I couldn't hear anything except my own thundering heart. I was frozen, I couldn't move. Somehow, I found myself standing over you, the paramedics were yelling out orders; but all I could see was the blood, there was so much blood Katie; I have never seen so much blood." His eyes close momentarily, exhaling a trembling breath; he meets her gaze again but quickly looks away, the onslaught of emotions still too close to the surface. "When the surgeon finally gave us the news that you had survived but your condition was precarious, it was that exact moment that I swore to myself that if you lived, cheated death, I was not going to stand idly by on the sidelines anymore, waiting for the call to finally come, the one that told me I waited too long, that you pushed this too far. I swore I would tell you that you needed to let this go, it didn't matter anymore. It was time to move on, live in the present, not the past."

Kate's head snaps up as she yanks her hand free from his grasp, anger flashes in her eyes, her whole body thrums with it, rolling off her in waves. "This is my life dad, not yours! If you're ready to give up that's fine but I won't let mom down, I will get her the justice she deserves." She regretted the words the second they left her mouth, but her ire refused to let him see her repentance. The bitterness of her words, the malicious intent behind them had achieved the desired effect; she wanted to hurt him and she succeeded. Shooting up out of the lounge, she disregards the searing pain that jolts through her body at the sudden movement, and storms off in the direction of the lake; leaving Jim no choice but to stare blankly at her quickly disappearing form.

By the time she reaches the lake her adrenaline fueled fury is spent. She feels the burning pain from her hasty retreat expanding outward from the wound in her chest; slowly consuming every part of her body. A wave of nausea hits her, causing her to double over; dry heaving, she slings her arm across her stomach as it violently churns, the burn of bile beginning to rise in the back of her throat. Leaning back heavily against the tree, her legs begin to buckle, helpless to stop herself from the agonizing descent. The abrasive bark catches the hem of her hoodie and drags it up; the knots and grooves of the wood unforgivingly dig and scrape at the soft flesh of her back, etching long angry red scratches into her body as she skids down jerkily. Collapsing heavily onto the ground, she pushes her legs out in front of her, the heels of her sneakers digging trenches into the dirt as the first traitorous tear breaks through the steel wall of her defenses. It leaves an infinitesimal fissure in its wake; no longer able to stand the pressure of her suppressed emotions it breaks open, and the tears finally rush forward. Her hands come up to cover her face, as her body shakes uncontrollably with racking sobs that cut hot wet trails of regret, anger and pain as they slide down her cheeks. Dropping to the ground soundlessly in the quiet solitude of the forest; each one carrying a mistake made, a wrong path taken, a bad decision, a friend ignored, a confession of love disregarded; and a silent wish for forgiveness.

* * *

She has no idea how long she's been rooted to this spot, but when she looks up her father is sitting silently beside her, his eyes fixed firmly on the lake. Her tears have dried, the pain has subsided to a dull throb and the nausea has abated; the only remnants of her earlier breakdown are the slightly glistening tracks that transverse down her cheeks. Just like her father, her eyes remain fixed upon the lake, peering at him from the corner of her eye, her words a strangled whisper, the guilt over her early actions clear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I know you loved her deeply, I shouldn't have accused you of anything less; doubted your devotion, your love, her importance to you, even now."

He knows his daughter and nothing he says is going to divert her from this path. He reaches out to place a comforting hand on her arm, a sign that he understands. "It's okay; you have been through a lot." She can hear the acquiescence already bleeding into his tone; his resignation at the hopeless situation. "And I know I can't stop you, never been able to. You're stubborn, just like your mother." A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, just a soft upturn as the memories of his wife flood his mind. Reaching his free hand out, his thumb and fore finger grasp her jaw lightly, and he turns her head to meet his eyes. "Please be careful Katie. I can't lose you too. Promise me you will be careful."

Sighing, Kate sits up straighter and smiles ruefully. "I promise." She knows it's a lie, a promise she can never keep. Getting justice for her mother will always be dangerous but it is a part of her that she knows she will never be able to give up.

Jim takes her answer for what it is, just words; he knows she would risk her life again; it's of little value to her in comparison to getting the justice she seeks. Pushing himself up off the ground, he leans over and extends his hand out to help her up. "Come on, let's get you inside."

**_AN: A HUGE thank you to Tshlw for keeping me on track, your super ninja beta skills and creating order from the chaos, it is greatly appreciated. A shout out to JoanaCTeixeira for taking the time to read my chapters in advance; fist bump. If you would like to follow me on Twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate scenes from the show, Twitter sized, you can follow that at Castleficlets ___****I do not own Castle, the characters etc., add in all the other usual disclaimers here.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Previously…_

_Sighing, Kate sits up straighter and smiles ruefully. "I promise." She knows it's a lie, a promise she can never keep. Getting justice for her mother will always be dangerous but it is a part of her that she knows she will never be able to give up._

_Jim takes her answer for what it is, just words; he knows she would risk her life again; it's of little value to her in comparison to getting the justice she seeks. Pushing himself up off the ground, he leans over and extends his hand out to help her up. "Come on, let's get you inside."_

* * *

A tendril of hair shifting ever so slightly across her brow gently rouses Kate from sleep. The warm summer breeze from the open window billows the comforter softly as it tickles its way across the bare skin of her arms like a soft caress. Burying her face further into her pillow, her eyes close as the familiar scents draw her mind back to happier times.

_Their first summer at the cabin, she hadn't been excited to leave her friends, and she made sure that her parents were very aware of her displeasure the whole car ride up; the complete silence other than the occasional huff of exasperation a clear sign to them that she was less than pleased. She had a summer full of plans already laid out, and none of which included being kidnapped by her parents and whisked away to some cabin in the middle of nowhere. _

_But as soon as they arrived, despite her less than pleasant behavior, and the even less obvious roll of her eyes, her mother grasped her hand firmly in hers, headed down to the lake, and pulled her down to sit next to her on the bank. Kate stared with rapt attention, her hands twisting in her lap, the confused expression at her mother's urgency to be by the lake clearly evident, but quickly vanishing as her mother wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders as she leaned in and whispered into her ear; "Just breathe Katie." Inhaling a deep breathe, she felt the crisp air invade her lungs; gone were the exhaust fumes from buses and cabs clogging the streets, the concrete dust from the numerous construction sites and the various aromas of food from the outdoor cafes. Here each delicate gust of wind was infused with the freshness of the cool lake water, the woodsy scent of the pines and maples all intertwined with the earthy scents of moss, leaves and bark. That was the moment Kate fell in love with the cabin. From that day forward it became a tradition, her and her mother sitting silently on the bank, enjoying the peace and solitude, a moment to just breathe; it was the true sign that summer had begun, and the first thing they did every time they arrived, rain or shine._

She wishes her mother were here now, on days like this, when the memories are so vivid, that they don't feel like memories at all. She can almost feel her hand in hers now, pulling her along towards the lake, her mother's laughter and her joyful giggles filling the silence as her legs tried desperately to keep up with her mother's exuberant pace. Her mother's pure joy for life, the simple pleasures found in everyday miracles filled Kate with warmth that has been missing for so long. She longs to go back to that time, back when her life was carefree and not complicated, back before a sniper bullet almost took her life, back to days when she didn't wake up and wonder how she is still alive and back before she watched her hopes and dreams die with her mother on that cold January day. Inhaling a deep breathe she allows herself just a brief moment, lets the smells draw her in, the memories surround her, wrap her in the comfort of familiarity; and just for a moment, believe.

A loud crash followed by a dull clunk startles her back to the present, seems her father is up, but she has no desire to face him at the moment. Rolling onto her back she drapes an arm defensibly across her eyes to block out the thin bands of sunlight that are bleeding in through the blinds. The pain from yesterday's long journey back to the house is beginning to build into a dull throb as the events from the previous day begin to unfurl in her mind; it was truly unpleasant, and she doesn't like the feelings it has stirred up. After a few moments of examination, she struggles to find the words to properly articulate her thoughts, and reaches the only possible conclusion, yesterday was a fucking disaster. With an inward groan she lifts her arm a fraction of an inch and cranes her neck to the side to spy a glance at the clock on the night stand; it's much later than she expected.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she dresses as quickly as her body will allow and pads her way across the room; the gentle breeze coming in from the open window luring her in. Listing into the wall, she crosses her arms over her chest and draws deep breaths in though her nose, as her eyes trip over the amazing view. The branches of the pines are swaying in the breeze, light gusts of air skimming the surface of the lake causing the cloud's shadows that are cast upon it to dance in the tiny ripples that break the mirror like surface. The late afternoon sun is sitting high in the azure sky and the brilliant shafts of sunlight glimmer off the small puddles of water on the stone patio, giving them an iridescent glow. The day is absolutely gorgeous, and she finds herself once again in awe of the astounding beauty of the natural surroundings.

A synthetic click draws her attention down to the driveway below, her eyes narrowing as she watches her father lean in to place a large bowl in the passenger seat, the car rocking slightly as he slams the door shut and strides back toward the house. Jim's footfalls upon the stairs alert her to his impending arrival before the knock on her door. Dropping down onto the cushion of the widow seat, his question is muffled though the thick wood of her bedroom door.

"Katie, are you awake?"

For a fleeting moment she considers feigning sleep, but bites back her reluctance to answer. "Yeah Dad, I am up."

"I thought you were going to sleep all day. It's four, I am heading to the Ruger's for the 4th of July party, are you sure you don't want to come? I can wait if you have changed your mind."

The party, shit, she forgot all about it. Grimacing, Kate absently runs her fingers through her hair. "No, I am just going stay home and rest, but go have a good time, don't let me stop you."

"Are you sure? Might be nice to get out, talk to some people besides me. At this point I am sure that I am boring you. I think Jackson will be there, you two used to be such good friends."

"Dad, it's been at least fifteen years, I hardly think he would even remember me." Okay, definitely should have gone with Plan A; pretending to be asleep seems like it would have been a much wiser decision.

"Okay, I am leaving; call me if you change your mind."

Giving him a non-committal hum in response she listens as the sounds of his footsteps fall away. She feels bad about not going and she knows her father means well, but although she may be ready physically for some time out, she knows her mental state could use a little more convalescing. The questions and especially the pity she knows will be obvious on everyone faces, is something she's just not ready for yet. Another pang of regret hits her with the realization that this was her last chance to spend some time with him, he's leaving tomorrow. She's going to miss him and even though she has a slight feeling of trepidation at the thought of being on her own; she's looking forward to the time alone. She needs to think, organize her thoughts, and basically just get her shit together before she heads back to the city in a few weeks. A feat she knows will never be accomplished as long as her father is still here. She desperately longs to do it without his worried eyes tracking her every movement, analyzing every breath and twinge of pain; it's suffocating. Kate waits until she hears the sound of his car disappearing before she hauls herself out of the widow seat and heads down to the kitchen. The pain and rumble of her stomach a reminder that she has not eaten in hours and is way off schedule for her medications.

Shaking her head she can't stop the smile that pulls at her lips; the kitchen is a mess. Apparently her father made his famous potato salad to bring to the party. Her mother always used to tease him that it should be famous for the epic mess he made preparing it, not for the taste. Filling a glass of water, she takes her pills and tosses a piece of toast in the toaster; after yesterday she's not sure that her stomach is capable of anything more at the moment.

She can't believe it's already the forth. Being here at the cabin has been bittersweet, so many memories filling her with joy and sadness simultaneously. As a child she used to spend every summer here with her parents; the fourth was always one of her favorites. As she got older she spent less and less time here, opting to spend the holiday with her pseudo precinct family instead. Every year they would have a picnic, her fellow officers coming and going as their shifts started and ended. Softball games, three legged races, everyone just looking to blow off some steam and have a good time. Well aware even before she was shot, that her time with Josh was coming to an end; she had hoped to take Castle with her this year. She was planning on using the boys as an excuse, along with his inability to turn down a challenge to beat them at anything to her advantage. She misses all of them, but it's Castle that invades her thoughts constantly. When she closes her eyes and the nightmares come back, it's always his voice, his words of love, begging her to stay here with him; that gives her the strength to pull herself out of the darkness. So many times she's wanted to call him, but as the days pass it's become harder and harder to make the call; till finally it has been so long, the silence stretched out between them a gaping expanse, that seems insurmountable to span.

She hasn't turned her phone on in weeks, not since she called Lanie when she first arrived. Maybe he's called her, he was never one to leave her alone, even when she forced him out of her life, he would just keep showing up. He's been beside her for so long now that she can't even remember what it is like not to feel his presence. She feels her anxiety starting to rise at the thought; the what if's bouncing in her head like a pinball. What if he has called? Is she ready to hear what he has to say? Can she handle the heartbreak she's sure will be evident in his voice? What if he hasn't called? The thought that maybe he has moved on, that she finally has pushed him too far, would break her. The ding of the toaster draws her back and any thoughts of calling or checking messages is quickly shoved into a box and locked away into the dark recesses of her mind; with 'Do Not Fucking Open' clearly emblazed across the front. Smearing some jelly haphazardly on the toast, she grabs her plate off the counter, crosses the foyer and heads out to the patio; maybe some al fresco eating is just the thing she needs to clear her mind.

* * *

She awakes to a slight chill creeping across the bare skin of her legs. The sun is beginning to set, and has dipped below the tree line; casting her lounge chair in shadow. Her impromptu nap has done nothing to dispel the urge to check her messages. If anything the desire to know has increased as his words floated unwillingly through her subconscious mind. Lowering her feet to the deck she pads quickly into the house and ascends the stairs to her bedroom. Dropping down onto the mattress she extends a hand out to extract her cell phone from the nightstand drawer. Ignoring the voice in her head, the one that is screaming for her to stop, uttering words of caution, a clear warning that nothing good can come from the knowledge of whether he called or not; she depresses her finger on the power button and silently prays that the voice is wrong.

TBC

_**AN: A HUGE thank you to Tshlw for keeping me on track, I would have never finished this chapter without your help; thank you! And KJF3333 for you super ninja beta, you the best. A shout out to JoanaCTeixeira for taking the time to read my chapters in advance; fist bump. If you would like to follow me on Twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate scenes from the show, Twitter sized, you can follow that at Castleficlets. I do not own Castle, the characters etc., add in all the other usual disclaimers here.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_Previously…._

_Dropping down onto the mattress she extends a hand out to extract her cell phone from the nightstand drawer. Ignoring the voice in her head, the one that is screaming for her to stop, uttering words of caution, a clear warning that nothing good can come from the knowledge of whether he called or not; she depresses her finger on the power button and silently prays that the voice is wrong. _

* * *

Kate watches as the phone comes to life, resisting the urge to halt its progress, throw it back into the drawer; the answers suddenly not so important if it means facing the truth. She ran away, cut off all contact with everyone, the feelings of regret and guilt growing with every excruciating second that she waits for the phone to power on. The phone emits a short burst of vibration as it springs to life, the notification pings immediately ringing out. With the phone clutched firmly in her hand Kate stares at the screen, the number of missed messages is overwhelming, but not a surprise. Disappearing after you have been shot and then shutting down the only communication line is probably not the best way to insure that friends will not try to contact you; repeatedly.

The trepidation has returned, and the voice of warning that she completely ignored, is now clawing its way back out; demanding her attention. Her hand drops to the bed, phone clutched firmly in her palm, thumb and forefinger of her free hand spans the width of her brow, rubbing wide sweeping circles over her temples; she can now add a headache to her list of aches and pains. Swinging her legs up onto the bed, Kate relaxes back into the headboard, crosses her legs at the ankles and rests the phone in the valley created by her thighs. Depressing her thumb on the green phone icon it opens to the contacts page. The menu at the bottom alerting her to fifteen voice mail messages missed. Hovering her thumb over the icon for her messages; she closes her eyes and taps the screen.

Drawing in a calming breath, she releases it slowly as her eyes open, and begins scrolling through her voice mail messages; her thumb flicking up as her eyes quickly scan the numbers as they fly by. Lanie, the boys, a few miscellaneous numbers, god, it looks like even Madison has seen the news, but as she reaches the end of the list, she's immediately flooded with relief and devastation, the two conflicting emotions hitting her simultaneously; he didn't call, and honestly, she can't blame him. Cradling the phone in her palm, her fore finger slides aimlessly over the screen, she watches as it fades to black; her final words reverberating in her head, ones spoken in fear, delivered from behind the safety of her walls, words that now carry the heavy weight of regret;

"I just need a little bit of time." "Sure. Sure, how much time?" "I'll call you..okay."

For the first time in a long time she feels alone, an overwhelming feeling of loss hitting her like a heavy weight; that the connection that has always been between them; no matter how far apart they were, the one she has always been able to feel; is gone and she weeps for its loss. It was like a living thing, expanding and contracting; aware of their needs. Pulled so taught at their most tumultuous moments, she was sure that it would finally let go; the pressure placed upon it being too great, yet somehow it always managed to hold. At other times it thrust them together with such force, that the effort to separate them, create some distance, was herculean. She fears that the constant push and pull has finally destroyed their connection, that it has snapped with such intensity, hurdled them so far apart; they will never find each other again.

Leaning over Kate deposits the phone back in the drawer her eyes catching the familiar scrawl of her handwriting adorning the page. Snatching the pad and pen she strides purposefully to the window seat and settles herself in comfortably.

_Well that was an excise in futility, all the worry over a call that never came. There is a small part of me that is glad he didn't call me, and the other part wants to rail and scream that he didn't. He picks now to finally listen to me, how ironic…unbelievable! Part of me has been expecting to open the door and see him striding up the walkway, his brilliant smile, the little boy charm sneaking through; acting as if he didn't just defy my wishes and bulldoze his way back into my life. I feel…angry, did he just give up? The broken woman he saw in the hospital, the scars that will forever be a part of me too much for him; the pedestal he placed me on shattering with the gun shot. He said he loved me, I think, the words float through my mind like smoke, when I reach out to grab them, hold on to them, they disappear. I am not sure if they are real or I made them …_

A high pitched whistle draws her attention to the window just as the sky fills with intense shards of red, white and blue and a deafening boom cracks the silence. Kate feels her body go rigid, an unexpected feeling of panic grips her; the dull thud of the pen hitting the floor is the the last coherent sound she hears. Her hand flies to her chest, her breath is labored and an unadulterated feeling of dread settles deep. The fear is paralyzing, holding her in place, like a car accident, in that brief moment just before impact. Her eyes dart left to right, the danger, like a dark shadow, skittering from corner to corner, shifting positions, never in one place long enough to be caught. It looms over her, restricting her vision, as she strikes out blindly in a desperate attempt to push the shadow back. She's struck with a fear, the certain knowledge, that something horrible is going to happen but she's completely helpless to stop it.

She struggles to maintain some semblance of control, but as her head drops to her knees and her hands come up to cradle the back of her head protectively, she gives herself over to the fear, lets it consume her, the resignation, the helplessness; this is a battle she will not win. It's over a quickly as it began, the dread and the fear swiftly dissipating, like the fog from breath on glass. If not for the sweat trickling down her brow and the thundering beat of her heart, she would swear it was an illusion, a figment of her imagination, just a nightmare. Staggering across the room she pulls back the covers and collapses heavily into bed. Closing her eyes, she sinks down into the mattress, her body protectively curling in on itself as she draws the comforter over her head; and begs for sleep to take her.

TBC

_**AN: Okay, so you all probably have your pitchforks sharpened and at the ready, but before you kill me let me explain. In season three I do not think Castle would have called her for many reasons, but here are my top three. First, at this point in their relationship Castle did not push Kate at all. Secondly, he thinks Josh is with her. And thirdly, she told him not to call and I think he would give her all the time she needed, he just did not expect it to go so long. A HUGE thanks to Tshlw for all the help once again! KJF3333 for you super ninja beta, you the best. And a shout out to JoanaCTeixeira for taking the time to read my chapters in advance; fist bump. If you would like to follow me on Twitter you can do so at Pak_321 I also have an additional twitter account where I use the quotes to recreate scenes from the show, Twitter sized, you can follow that at Castleficlets. I do not own Castle, the characters etc., add in all the other usual disclaimers here.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN: This chapter will be the last; it jumps ahead to Kate's last day at the cabin. Thank you to all that followed, added as a favorite and reviewed, I appreciate it.**_

_Previously…._

_Staggering across the room she pulls back the covers and collapses heavily into bed. Closing her eyes, she sinks down into the mattress, her body protectively curling in on itself as she draws the comforter over her head; and begs for sleep to take her._

* * *

Pulling the zipper closed on her suitcase Kate drops down onto the bed beside it, it's her last day here and the eagerness and reluctance at returning to her life in the city weighs heavily on her mind. The last few weeks have passed in relative peace, most of the neighbors abandoning their vacation homes just after the holiday; the responsibilities of real life putting an end to their carefree vacations. She has enjoyed the solitude the cabin has provided, the absence of others affording her mind and body the much needed privacy it required to heal, without the pity and scrutiny of others watching. Psychically she has made significant progress, her daily walks around the lake have become longer and longer each day and she's even been able to incorporate some very light yoga into her morning routine. She very rarely requires the heavy pain medications to get her through the day, and has happily been able to control most of the now minor discomfort with aspirin; only reluctantly resorting back to using the heavier narcotics when her desire to get back to her physical best causes her to push herself too hard.

Pressing her palms flat to the bed she pushes herself up and begins one last sweep of the room; her eyes falling to the nightstand drawer, her journal and phone contained within. Such a small insignificant space, yet its importance none the less valuable. She wonders if it feels the burdens she's passed, the pressure she's placed upon it, the wood on the verge of splintering under the weight of holding her darkest thoughts, deepest disappoints and most agonizing heartbreaks. Grasping the handle, she opens the drawer slowly; a fleeting moment of panic grips her, as if like Pandora's Box, the mere opening will once again release all the emotions and darkness trapped inside.

Tossing her cell phone onto the bed without a second glance, she grasps the journal firmly in her hand, pads across the room and for the last time, settles herself once again into her window seat. Inhaling and slowly releasing a deep breath, she reads the words scrawled upon the pages. The raw emotion, anger, pain, heartbreak and complete resignation spilling forth, fills her with a longing that these words belonged to someone else. That this wasn't her life but rather the pages torn from some heartbreaking novel. The tips of her fingers gently swipe away the tears slowly sliding down her cheeks, as her eyes flick up to gaze up upon the view; a desperate attempt to replace the ugliness contained upon the pages with the beauty of her surroundings.

The mid afternoon sun shining through the glass falls softly upon her, the shadows hitting her in such a way that parts of her are still cloaked in shade and she can't help but draw the parallel to her own life. Her path once lit by the light of justice has now been clouded by the darkness of revenge; the two desires now bleeding together so seamlessly that she fears how far she would actually go to end this once and for all. She's taken aback by the realization, the unvarnished truth of her thought, that justice is not something that is gained by playing by the rules; she's tried that path and has the scars as a reminder, a clear sign, that justice is best attained, by any means necessary. Bringing her eyes back to the pages she raises the pen, the thoughts in her mind screaming for release, begging to be purged and sorted.

_My father is right, I would sacrifice everything for a chance, I believe that my life in exchange for resolution is a small price to pay. I will never be able to move on until I have the answers, I know that now. Turning away from the path all those years ago only to end up where I am now, makes me feel like I wasted all that time, I was living in denial, believing that I would be able to move on, but I was lying to myself, I have to see this through till the end. The irony that I bring justice to others and yet have never been able to provide it to myself, my father, haunts me daily. _

_I still can't believe that Montgomery had all the answers; that he knew all along and yet time and time again he stood idly by and watched me drown in my obsession. Even though I have forgiven him, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if he had come to me sooner, and just told me the truth. Would I have still ended up with a bullet in my heart? Maybe I would be in a totally different place, having gotten the justice that I so desperately desired and my mother deserved. Would I have no longer had these walls? Where would Castle and I be now? Instead I am here all alone, under the partial guise of recuperation, the need to leave, distance myself from everything and everyone was more than I could endure. _

_Some nights when I close my eyes, I am transported back, but it's not me that is lying in the grass, but Castle, his love for me spilling from his lip, his final words before he's lost to me forever. The difference that a mere few seconds could have made, had he been the one to take the bullet meant for me, makes my heart ache with an emptiness that I would have missed the chance to tell him, that I love him too. I have so many concerns constantly running through my mind, that if I concentrate on them for too long, they become overwhelming. I wish I hadn't led Josh on, that I had been strong enough to be honest with myself about how I really felt. I wish I had been more open, not so closed off that I couldn't tell Castle the truth, that I remembered it all. _

_I worry about how everyone will treat me when I get back, that they will look at me differently since I ran away, the strong confident cop completely overshadowed by the broken fragile woman I try so hard to hide. I cut them all out of my life; afraid they would catch the tremble in my voice or the gasps of pain on a call, I would not be able to withstand their sympathy and pity for me bleeding through every concerned word. _

_I feel weak and I hate it, the still present aches and pains, my body only able to stand the most minor of workouts, is a constant disappointment. But I think I hate the scars the most. When I look at them I don't see my strength, my will to survive, those are just pathetic excuses people use to make you feel better about them, I only see the marred skin and a constant reminder that I will never be safe until this is over. _

_I am nervous about my psych. evaluation, that I won't be able to mask the fact that I remember it all. That he will see right through me, catch the flicker of just how broken I am flash in my eyes. The reaction I had to the fireworks terrifies me; that it is possibly just the beginning of what could be a much larger problem; but I am too scared by the consequences to give it the attention I should. At times it's all too much; more than one person should have to bear in a lifetime. But despite it all, I know I have to go back, I can't hide here anymore just listening to the sound of the crickets. _

Dropping her hand to her side, Kate rests the pages in her lap, the weight of her words giving them a false sense of heaviness. She's struck by a feeling that just being in their presence will somehow have the power to transfer all the negative feelings back, the need to dispose of them, be rid of them forever, is overwhelming. Knowing exactly what she has to do, she drops her feet to the floor, pushes herself up and out of the window seat and exits her bedroom.

* * *

Crossing the patio, she squats down in front of the fire pit and turns the gas valve on. Rising up, she depresses the electronic igniter; the flickering orange flames jump to life, drawing an immediate flush to her already warm skin. Scanning the words one last time, she feels a whisper of wind pass over her, the pages rustle in her hand, as a shiver runs through her, despite the warmth from the midafternoon sun. Overhead the clouds begin to pass by quickly, casting shadows upon the patio, the shapes silently slipping along the stone. Her eyes track their path, their movement fluid, like images in a silent film. The pages vibrate as the first droplets of rain hit the paper, warping the flat surface as they expand outward, the ink mixing with the water and bleeding slowly, creating intricate blue spider webs across the page. Tilting her head back, her eyes flutter closed as the rain increases its pace, the cool droplets mix with the warmth of her tears and the drumming of the rain against the paper beats in time with her heart. Lowering her gaze, she watches as the words melt away, running off in tiny rivers that fall silently to the ground, leaving behind the washed out remnants, the power of them diluted.

The shower passes as quickly as it began, the clouds returning to their leisurely existence in the sky, as the water dissipating on the heated patio stones releases faint wisps of steam into the air. Reaching up with her free hand, Kate swipes away the hair from her face, her saturated clothes cling uncomfortably to her body, the journal still clutched in her hand is nothing more than shards, the words once contained on the pages, now illegible. Tossing the sodden remnants into the still blazing flames, a wet hiss escapes as it dries out and simultaneously burns. Kate watches the smoke rise up and drift effortlessly away, carrying her vulnerability, every tear she has shed and the secrets that she will never share. As the fire consumes the last of her journal, she feels a lightness wash through her with the unburdening; she is done being afraid, its time to take back control. She has learned valuable lessons and realizations; some she will carry back with her, using them to guide her path forward and some so painful, that they will be left here to die in the peaceful solitude, too much time already wasted on them. Gazing out upon the lake for the last time, she's struck by words she read long ago, the depth of them not truly realized until this very moment.

"In the end, some of your greatest pains become your greatest strengths."

_**Additional AN: I know some may not agree with my assessment of a vengeful/walking the gray line Kate, but here is where my train of thought comes from. When Kate returned in Rise, she wanted to immediately put on her own case, to which gates replied; "My precinct is no place for vendettas." And she then lashes out at the fire investigator Ron Halstead. I don't think she got any true perspective until Killshot when she told Burke she wanted to be more than her mother's murder, but she did not know who she was without it. But even then, in Always, she is sliding into the gray zone once again when she goes rogue after Maddox and almost dies, and in Recoil she considers destroys evidence. Just my opinion of course, just wanted to let you know where I was coming from. Quote is by Drew Barrymore. Thank you once again Tshlw for all the help and once again bringing order to the chaos! KJF3333 (Falshpoint) for the beta, and JonanaCTTeixeira for reading in advance and giving my your opinions...fistbump.**_


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